


(let me come home) home is whenever I'm with you

by pearwaldorf



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Post-Game(s), Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:30:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearwaldorf/pseuds/pearwaldorf
Summary: Impulsively, she reaches out for Vanasha’s hand. “Come with me. I could use another person on the road.” It’s not that she’s incapable of making the trip on her own, but she would prefer not to. She has the luxury of want now, and it is nice to be able to indulge it.





	(let me come home) home is whenever I'm with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Letterblade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letterblade/gifts).



> Hi Letterblade! I hope this hits at least a few of the things you like. I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy it. <3

Aloy wakes up in Olin’s apartment, where she has staggered back after the battle, the adrenaline finally wearing off. She sleeps deeply, without dreaming. When she wakes up, the sky is dark and there is a person sitting in the corner. The moon limns her dark skin, gives just enough light that Aloy can see her smile.

“Vanasha?” she says, still a bit groggy.

“You’re awake, little huntress.” Vanasha tosses aside the book she was reading. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been through the worst battle of my life.” Aloy sits up and winces as her muscles protest. After experimental movement she finds she can sit, stand, and walk, but anything more strenuous than that is out of the question.

“I think I have something that might help, if you’re willing to walk a bit. Shall we?” Vanasha holds out her arm, and Aloy takes it. Her skin is warm, and soft as petals. Aloy thinks she can probably walk on her own, but it might not be such a terrible idea to have that extra support. 

It is late enough that any celebration that may have happened in the battle’s aftermath has now quieted, the citizenry mostly asleep or nursing their hangovers. She can hear the soft scrape of Vanasha’s sandals against the ground. There is a young woman leaning against a balcony, a cup in her hand. She sees the two of them, and she rubs her eyes, as if she isn’t sure they aren’t a mirage. 

“You should wave. Show your adoring public you appreciate them.” Vanasha’s voice is low, pitched so it will travel only as far as Aloy’s ear. She can feel Vanasha’s breath against it, and suppresses a shiver. 

Aloy raises her hand in a tentative greeting. The young woman raises her cup in a toast, and Aloy puts her hand to her chest, the traditional Nora acknowledgement of respect. 

“Was that so difficult?” Vanasha has been watching the exchange with interest.

“I’m still not used to this level of attention. And when there was enough reason to notice me, it usually wasn’t pleasant.” 

Vanasha pats her arm in sympathy. “You are no longer an outcast, my little huntress. Word of your deeds precedes you, and people will be awed.” 

“It’s strange, still.” 

“But is it unwelcome?” Aloy has to acknowledge that it is not.

\--

They reach Vanasha’s rooms at the palace without further incident. It is the same size as Olin’s apartment, but furnished more lavishly. Aloy wonders if it is Vanasha’s taste or the decorator’s.

“Come, I have a present for you.” Vanasha takes her hand and leads her through a door on the side. They enter a bathing chamber with a large metal tub in the center. The water steams enough that the air is a little blurred, and she can smell faint traces of restorative herbs.

For a moment, Aloy is overwhelmed, speechless. It is an unexpected kindness, and given the way her muscles ache, a needed one.

“Thank you,” she says. “This is--”

“The water’s getting cold.” Vanasha cuts her off, but there’s a smile on her face. “Call if you need anything.” 

The water feels too hot at first, but as the heat soaks into her muscles, she relaxes against the side of the tub. There are finely milled soaps and fragrant oils on a small table, which she smells but does not use. She wonders how long she would have to use such things before her skin became as soft and radiant as Vanasha’s, or if it is possible at all.

Those thoughts fade from her head, and she wakes to Vanasha shaking her gently. The water is cooling, and her skin prickles in reaction. Vanasha helps her out of the tub and drapes her in a ridiculously fluffy bathrobe.

“I have better places to sleep than a bathtub, if you’d care to partake.” Still that smile, as if she finds Aloy endlessly amusing. But there is no condescension or patronization in it, only fondness. It makes Aloy’s insides do funny things.

“I think I’d like that,” she said finally. Vanasha shows her to a bedroom, with a bed big enough for a whole family of Nora. 

“Sweet dreams, my little huntress.” Vanasha squeezes her shoulder and closes the door.

Aloy falls onto the bed, not even bothering to remove her robe or get under the covers. She’s slept in much worse circumstances, and it is a relief to be able to let her guard down, and trust that she will be safe.

\--

She wakes up, a bit rumpled but well rested and refreshed. The sun is high in the sky when she walks into the central sitting room. Vanasha sits reading, a pastry in her hand. There is a lavish repast in front of her: bread, fruit, baked sweets. 

“Good morning, little huntress, if only just.” Vanasha gestures to the food. “Eat up; we have an audience with the king.”

“We do?” Aloy swallows the chunk of bread she’d torn into. Normally she would try to be polite and not attack her food like a starving beast, but the last time she ate was the morning before the battle. She also senses no judgment from Vanasha. (Aloy is good at sensing disapproval, however quietly expressed.)

“You don’t think after rescuing his brother and stepmother we would not be formally thanked?” Vanasha preens a little, and Aloy hides a smile as she looks down at the food. 

“I suppose.” Despite being on a first name basis with one, she knows little about the perceived obligation of kings. 

“In any case, we are expected at the throne room in an hour. Eat, eat!” And so she does.

\--

The contours of the Sun King’s throne room are familiar by this point, a thing Aloy is startled to realize. Avad is not sitting on the throne, but standing next to it. She begins to bow, and Avad rushes over, catching her hands. She glances over at Vanasha, who is still in the middle of her obeisance. Her face is serene, save for an eyebrow quirk of surprise.

“Aloy! Thank you for coming. I know I have already expressed my gratitude for facilitating the safe passage of my brother and his mother from Sunfall, but they wished to thank you in person.” Here the guards parted to let Nasadi and Itamen onto the platform, Itamen gently pushed forward by his mother. Scrubbed of ritual makeup and dressed simply but finely, he finally looks like a little boy instead of a pawn and figurehead.

Nasadi curtsies low in front of her. “I would be remiss if I allowed my stepson”--here her mouth quirks, acknowledging the ridiculousness of the situation, and Aloy smiles back--”to express my gratitude for what you have done for me and my son.” She becomes somber, her eyes bright. “You have given my boy a life, and I am here to see it. For that I am in forever in your debt.” She folds Aloy into a hug, tighter than she would have expected. 

Aloy puts her arms around the other woman, embracing her back. “I lost someone who cared for me, not long ago. If that’s something I can prevent for another person, I will.”

Nasadi squeezes her shoulders in sympathy. “My condolences. Perhaps one day you can tell me about them.”

Aloy’s hand goes to the necklace, her last gift from Rost. “I would like to.” 

When they separate, Itamen tugs at Nasadi’s robes. They whisper together for a moment, and Itamen steps forward, looking up at Aloy. She crouches down.

“Thank you for getting me and Mama out of Sunfall,” he says solemnly, obviously rehearsed.

“It was my honor and privilege, your Highness,” she replies, equally formal.

“I made you something to say thank you.” His voice now is shy, a little uncertain.

“I would love to see it,” she says, and he smiles, a delighted little boy instead of a prince. A servant hands him something made out of clay, and he gives it to Aloy.

“It’s a strider,” he says. Aloy sees four stubby legs definitely, maybe a longish neck. Holding it in her hands, Aloy is struck how different her life is now. People give her things, not out of necessity or obligation, but because they are grateful.

“Thank you, your Highness,” she says. “I will treasure it.” Itamen waves and retreats back to his mother’s side. Avad comes over, seeing that business is concluded. He smiles when he sees what Aloy is cradling in her hands.

“That was only one of the things I summoned you here for. I regret that I could not give you more time to rest as you deserve, but Mainspring is a long distance from Meridian, and this is… important to me.” His smile is gone now. “I received word from Erend. Ersa has been delivered safely to Oseram and they intend to hold--I guess it would be a celebration of her life. My duties here prevent my attendance, but I would like to send you as my envoy.”

Aloy is silent for a moment, surprised. Avad must take this as hesitation, because his expression becomes pleading. “Aloy, please. You know how it would look if I went myself. And if things were different, I would. But there is much I have to do here, and I am loathe to leave my brother and Nasadi so soon after their arrival.” 

“If the Sun King commands, of course I’ll carry out his orders. But I would much rather do a favor for a friend.” 

The relief on Avad’s face is immediate, and he pulls Aloy into a hug. “Thank you,” he says. “You’re always there when I need you, and I am grateful.” 

She pats him awkwardly before extricating herself. “If I’m going to go, I guess I should get packing.” 

“Of course, of course. Safe travels. Please give my regards to Erend.” Avad leaves, and everybody else bows as he does so.

Back at Vanasha’s, she surveys her belongings. She needs provisions, warm clothing, and probably other things. She notices she’s still carrying the strider. She would prefer not to bring it with her so it doesn’t get damaged. 

“You can put it here, if you’d like.” Vanasha points to a shelf, where a rickety strider made of matchsticks rests. Aloy wonders how it traveled, to end up here mostly intact. 

“Thank you,” she says, placing her clay piece next to the wooden one. They are an odd-looking pair, but they seem to fit together somehow.

“I’ll keep it safe for you until you return. You have my word.” There is no jest or lightness in Vanasha’s tone, and something in Aloy’s chest shifts and aches at the thought of being away. Not just from the city, but the people she has come to know in it: Avad and Talanah, but also Vanasha.

Impulsively, she reaches out for Vanasha’s hand. “Come with me. I could use another person on the road.” It’s not that she’s incapable of making the trip on her own, but she would prefer not to. She has the luxury of want now, and it feels revolutionary to be able to indulge it. 

There is a flash of genuine surprise in Vanasha’s eyes, long enough that Aloy knows she didn’t imagine it. “I’m flattered, my little huntress. I doubt I will be particularly useful company, but if you wish me to accompany you, I will.”

 _You don’t have to be useful, I just want you with me,_ Aloy thinks, but what comes out of her mouth is “I’m glad.” 

Vanasha smiles and squeezes her hand. “Then let us start packing, you and I.”

\--

The ground outside of Meridian begins to get rocky and harder to traverse by foot. Not far away, there are two striders. Aloy approaches them cautiously. Even with reports of machines becoming less aggressive, striders are still striders, and she doesn’t want them to spook. She overrides one, then the other, leading them back to Vanasha. 

“It’s a long way to Mainspring, but this will help cut our travel time. Come on, I’ll give you a boost.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Vanasha swings herself onto the strider’s back with ease, settling herself as if she’s done this all her life. “Shall we be going then?”

Aloy laughs and gets on her strider. 

It takes only a little while for Vanasha to get used to controlling her machine, and she starts jumping small rocks and narrow streams. The strider seems to enjoy it as much as Vanasha does, arching its neck in satisfaction after a successful jump while Vanasha preens and pats its withers. Eventually, Vanasha becomes confident enough to race Aloy or other animals, galloping as quick as she is able, whoops of delight incongruous with her usual elegant demeanor. She only wins half the time, but it is mostly for the fun of it. And really, watching Vanasha’s smile flash while she wipes the sweat from her brow is its own reward.

There are also long periods of silence. It is a comfortable one that does not need to be broken, companionable. It is familiar, but Aloy can’t place the feeling until she sees Vanasha sitting on the other side of the fire, humming softly to herself as she mends a piece of clothing. The last time she felt it was with Rost. 

\--

They reach the edge of the Sundom, the rocks becoming sharper, more jagged. She can see mountain peaks in the distance, capped with snow. Pitchcliff is only a couple days’ ride from here, then a few more to Mainspring. 

“Tell me about Ersa,” she says to Vanasha. 

Vanasha pauses, thinking. “She was strong, fierce, an incredibly skilled fighter. But she was clever too, or else she never would have survived the Sun Ring. She was the brains and strategy behind Avad’s resistance. He would not have taken back Meridian without her.” She gazes into the distance, lost in her recollection. “Pushing Jiran and his forces out was just the beginning. Just because the nobles were glad to have the mad king gone didn’t mean they were going to welcome Avad with open arms. Ersa helped him figure out who to approach, who to avoid. She was his right hand, but most importantly, his rock.” 

“I would have liked to have known her.” Aloy is assaulted by a fresh wave of sadness and fury, and she takes a deep breath.

Vanasha is looking at her, eyes sad. “I think she would have liked you.” 

“I’m honored you think that.” Aloy can feel her cheeks flare with heat, and hopes she can blame it on the cold. 

\--

Aloy wakes up, and finds that the temperature has dropped sharply. The fire is down to embers, but even here she can see Vanasha shivering in her bedroll. With a stick, she unearths a large flat rock she buried next to the campfire in case this happened. Carefully, she wraps it in a thick shirt and slides it under Vanasha’s feet. Then she slips under the blanket and presses against Vanasha’s back, curling her arm around Vanasha’s waist. It takes a little while before her shivering stops, and a bit more until her breathing becomes slow and even. Impulsively, Aloy presses a kiss to the back of Vanasha’s neck, and feels a hand lace its fingers between hers.

The next night, and the night after that, they share a bedroll. It is much warmer than a hot rock could make it.

\--

Mainspring is cold and an oily, sooty haze hangs over it; not exactly a welcome sight after a long and arduous journey. Aloy shows the letter Avad’s chief steward gave her to the guard at one of the city’s many gates, and she and Vanasha are taken to a building of impressive size. 

Judging by the movement of people in and out, this appears to be some sort of wayhouse, a place for people to wait out of the wet and cold and possibly pick up a meal or other necessities. It is full of uncommunicative Oseram who ignore them, and it drags up unpleasant memories of trips into the Sacred Land. She does her best not to hunch in to herself, make herself less noticeable, but it is hard to fight a lifetime of habit. Vanasha lifts her chin haughtily and stares down anybody who gives them hostile looks. Aloy fumbles for Vanasha’s hand and squeezes it, grateful for the support.

After a while, she sees Erend shouldering his way through the crowd, and she surges forward, tackling him in a hug. 

“It’s good to see you too,” he says, slapping her on the back. “Let’s get out of here. It’s crowded and the company’s not much fun.”

“I don’t know, I think I’d consider myself the exception,” Vanasha says, hooking her arm into Aloy’s. Aloy leans her head against Vanasha’s shoulder, and is not rebuffed.

Erend laughs. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we were introduced, what with the whole fighting for our lives against evil machines.”

Vanasha extends her hand, and Erend clasps her forearm, as the Oseram do when greeting comrades in arms. “I am Vanasha. I’m a… friend of Aloy’s.” 

Aloy supposes it’s not wrong. This thing between them is too new to name, small and fragile. Perhaps it needs room to grow before they understand it.

Before she can think further on it, Erend slings his arms around them both and steers them out of the lodge. “Any friend of Aloy’s is a friend of mine.” 

They arrive at a small lodge, much more welcoming than the previous building. It is lit bright, and she can smell many things cooking. There are people sitting down at tables with cups, milling around, chasing children across the room. Many of them bear a great resemblance to Erend and Ersa. 

It takes a bit for the lodge to realize that Erend is back, with two strangers, but as they do, an anticipatory silence falls over the room. Erend clears his throat. Aloy gets the sense he is not used to addressing people in this particular capacity.

“Thank you for waiting. Our guests came a long way to be with us, so I hope they’ll be understanding that we started warming up without them.” There’s a rumble of cheerful agreement, followed by a raising of cups. Erend lets the crowd go on for a moment before holding up his hand. They quiet immediately.

“But let us not forget the purpose of this gathering: to celebrate the life and memory of my sister Ersa. She would not want us to be sad, although she would understand if we were. Grieve if you have need, and we who love her will hold you. Eat if you are hungry, and tell your stories of her.   
Drink if you like, and toast to her memory.” Here Erend has to stop and take a breath. Aloy catches his eye and gives what she hopes is an encouraging smile. 

He turns to her. “None of this would be possible without this little lady here. I, and Ersa, owe Aloy everything. With her help, we were able to uncover the truth of the ambush, and save the city and kingdom my sister worked so hard to help build. I was able to give her some measure of peace, and for that, I will always be grateful.” Erend grabs her hand, raising their joined arms upward. “My blood sister is gone, but know that you will always have a brother in me, and a family in Oseram.”

The crowd roars its approval, and Aloy blinks back tears. No longer is she judged for the circumstances of her birth, but the value of her actions, and that realization fills her with lightness. 

She glances over at Vanasha, who has a suspicious glimmer in her eyes, but is smiling. Aloy leans in and kisses her, as quickly as she dares. Faintly she hears the crowd cheering, but her attention is mostly focused on Vanasha, who’s pulled her in for a longer kiss, a promise of things to come. She wraps her arms around Vanasha, looking out over the assembled lodge. Home is not a place, she is starting to realize. Home is where you can be who you are.


End file.
